as it spreads across the cushions,
the rug, my body.
begging me to feel.
I’m hiding from my words
as they spread across my mind and tongue,
burning, slipping, I can’t hold onto them.
I’m hiding from the breathing dog
her beating heart
her needing eyes.
She’s shaking coffee from my cup
like waves against a boat.
I'm hiding from the birds tempting me to sing
and I can't sing so I keep my lips tight.
I'm hiding from the wind tempting me to twirl
making me throw up, making me sick.
I'm hiding from my duties; from calling back home,
from putting pictures in albums,
from moving the photos on the wall.
I'm hiding from pillows that hold me in place,
cradling my head, supporting my back.
I'm hiding from tomorrow; from love that fades
or bores or just goes away.
I'm hiding from the bottle that sits empty on the table,
the couch that sits empty across the room,
the ashtray full of half smoked cigarettes,
the dirty expresso maker, the full dish rack,
the stool no one uses, the coasters made of paper,
the wand with no magic, the flowers with no smell,
the phone that must be broken, the belt that doesn't fit,
the paintings that are unfinished,
the keys that do not open.
Hiding from the past; a kiss that’s haunted me for years, haunts me still, more kisses,
ashes under the avocado tree, crabs beneath the bed,
a painting in the hallway, words across a street,
a gun in the nightclub, tracks across her veins,
hiding in the closet, running down the street,
going off a bridge, fleeing from the cops,
sex without permission, lying to too many,
no more kisses.
I'm hiding from myself; the truths of this body,
this heart, this mind.
The truth that I’ll die, that I hurt people,
that I forgot to forgive, forgot to listen, forgot to let be.
That I don't want to come back
but I'm not ready to go yet either
so I hide.